We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth

Our Rash Faults Make Trivial Price Of Serious Thing We Have, Not Knowing Them Until We Know Their Grave.

Oh, Thou Did'st Then Ne'er Love So Heartily. If Thou Rememb'rest Not The Slightest Folly That Ever Love Did Make Thee Run Inot, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Has't Not Sat As I Do Now, Wearying They Hearer In Thy Mistress's Praise, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Hast Not Broke From Company Abruptly, As My Passion Now Makes Me, Thou Has Not Loved. (silvius)

Then With The Losers Let It Sympathize, For Nothing Can Seem Foul To Those That Win.

Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make The Truth; But The Plain Single Vow, That Is Vow'd True.

To Be In Anger Is Impiety, But Who Is Man That Is Not Angry?